


Cities on the Horizon

by muse_of_mbaku



Series: Cities on the Horizon [1]
Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 19:39:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14755043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muse_of_mbaku/pseuds/muse_of_mbaku
Summary: After letting pride and hurt get in the way, M’Baku and his love are trying to put together the pieces of their individual lives in the hopes that there is still room for each other.  Never one to back down, M’Baku refuses to be forgotten and challenges her to take exactly what she wants from him and the world. (This is a continuation of Blood in the Snow)





	1. Chapter 1

“Beside him stood his mighty queen, an equal force, wise and keen…So, seek some place to call your own right next to this mighty shining throne. When love was king...when love was king.”

-“When Love Was King” by Gregory Porter

 

Prologue 

When the purple bruise of dusk gave way to the brightness of morning, you did not see beauty in any of it. You’d tossed and turned throughout the night, the memory of M’Baku chasing you into the furthest reaches of your mind. When you’d reached the end of any possible denial of what your heart craved, you’d given up any hope of rest.

 

Pushing the heavily quilted blankets from your body, you’d settled onto the balcony overlooking one of the expansive gardens surrounding the palace of the royal family. On a normal night, you’d be impressed with the flowering bushes and the sway of trees in the distance. You would have reveled in the sounds of the city and country melding together, a cacophony that soothed and excited. Any other night, it would have lulled you to sleep. This was not an ordinary evening.

 

After you’d retreated to the palace, the pull of seeing M’Baku a final time had been too strong to ignore. You’d watched the heavy rise and fall of his shoulders as he sat at the water’s edge and then trailed his movements up the path and towards the lighted portico where T’Challa had greeted him solemnly. Whatever words passed between the two didn’t make it across the air and into your ears and you watched the panther king stroll off into the darkness with the man you knew would haunt your dreams for a very long time.

 

Boarding your flight a few hours later, you’d craned your neck hoping against your better judgement that on the horizon you’d see him walking purposefully towards you. It didn’t happen and a part of you had leapt for joy. Pulling yourself from his gaze, his arms, would have been impossible the second time. You’d known from the time T’Challa’s invitation had arrived that Wakanda was not to be your home. You were an outsider of the Golden City and especially the Jabari lands. Now, you had the blood of one of their own on your hands. Why would they ever accept you? At home, among the urban landscape of Philadelphia, you knew what to expect, where you fit. Life there, as rushed and impersonal as it could be, was predictable. There was safety in that. There was not safety in the life of a man who made you forget who and what you were. A man who opened up possibilities that had never even crossed your fantasies.

 

You’d taken one final glance at the lush lands below the window and drawn the shutter, blocking out the sight of the mountains just as they began to cover the sun.

 

 

Part One

 

The sounds of Philadelphia were not that of Wakanda. There was no backdrop of animals and oceans to cut the noise of horns beeping and voices rising not in praise, but instead in anger and competition. You’d lived there your entire life and the city had never seemed so loud or grating. You knew there would be an adjustment, stepping back into a life that seemed much more hurried and primitive than what you’d come to love about a nation on the other side of the world. You did not expect the city to seem dulled or how much your ears perked trying to find the sounds of Xhosa peppering conversations. It all made you sad in ways you knew would be hard to shake. But life goes on, right?

 

Right now, life was calling you to bring your mind back to the papers you were grading. If you couldn’t lose yourself somewhere in the mountains and plains of Wakanda, you could at least immerse yourself into the words of your students. They deserved your attention, not the daydreams of what could have or should have been. Both of you had made a choice. He by believing you’d been nothing more than a woman willing to sacrifice her body and her pride to take what was his. And you by throwing his apologies and his vulnerability back into his face. Whatever that needed to be said had been a wash after that. Just liked the burned palace bridge, there was no going back.

 

Kneading a knot at the back of your neck, you dropped your pen to the desk and flipped open your laptop. The only good thing, outside of the memories that warmed your nights, was the book you’d begun to compile. You’d been stunned to find a small parcel on your seat when you boarded your flight. It was wrapped plainly and you’d nearly missed the tiny crest in the bottom left hand corner. A Jabari seal. You’d carefully removed the paper, taking care to keep it intact. A reminder of a small kindness. In the bundle your journals, notes, and documents were neatly bound together with a small strip of leather. Tucked beneath the knot was a small piece of parchment. You will need these. Your voice is very much needed in the world.

 

It had taken everything in you not to allow the tears welling up to overflow. All in one moment, you felt small and stupid. What had you thrown away? Most of the flight found you running your fingers over the neatly blocked letters and trying to capture at least a whiff of him in the weave of the paper. When you thumbed through your private journal, the one used to capture your growing love for the hidden nation, you had been surprised at the weight of something falling into your lap. Tucked between the pages was a pendant suspended on a fragile length of vibranium. The thin slice of indigo geode was cool to the touch. It was the same endless blue of the Jabari sky. That was too much to bear and you’d excused yourself long enough to cry and pull yourself back together.

 

Against your better judgement, the pendant now lay securely against your skin, tucked beneath your shirt. It had remained there since you’d donned it as the plane was landing. How long it would remain was unsure. For now, it was a comfort that you very desperately needed.

 

***

 

For anyone unaware of the turbulent and bittersweet week M’Baku had just endured, he or she would have seen him as the same self-assured king. For those who knew, that was only on the surface. Beneath the armor, the imposing façade, and the commanding voice was a man barely holding on. He’d thrown himself back into the daily demands and responsibilities his position required, but it felt mechanical. There was no joy in walking the gardens or watching his people move about their lives. As melancholy as he may be at the moment, he knew they deserved better. Whatever came of him and Y/N, his focus was first and foremost the betterment and security of his tribe.

 

The small burial ceremony for A’Dyo had ended only hours before. He’d received the homegoing his family was owed, not the one he would have received as a traitor to the throne. Tradition, in this instance, had been a saving grace. M’Baku was thankful that Y/N was not seen as a murderer by the tribe at large. The fact his life had been spared had been the swaying factor. For most, she was a force who’d risked all that she was for their king.

 

Except her heart he scowled.

 

That more than anything angered him. For the first time in his life, he’d been open and soft. He’d let his guard down in telling her what he needed. For that he’d only received the sight of her back retreating into the darkness. Still, he couldn’t forget how close he had come to keeping her at his side. A lesser woman…there was no need to finish that thought. A lesser woman wouldn’t be on his mind. She was an anomaly. Having prided himself on how tradition was the core of his life, he’d offered his heart to a woman who was brash, very much American, and at the moment very unattainable. But he was Jabari, losing wasn’t something he’d experienced very often and he wasn’t willing to get used to that feeling.

 

Thankfully, T’Challa had been receptive of leaving the parcel of items on her return flight. He’d contemplated keeping them. If he had, there would be something to tell him she’d physically been there. He needed that more than memory. He could have read her words at his whim and imagined the honeyed sound of her voice instead of the words on the page. And he could have kept her face fresh in his view, but she needed her passport and the work she’d dedicated herself to. He wouldn’t deny her anything she needed, in this instance or any other.

 

The addition of the necklace had been a nerve-racking endeavor. When he’d assumed the throne, all of the jewels and trinkets of his station had passed to him. He found most of it an unnecessary pile of gaudiness, but he’d wanted her to have something connected to him and his people. He’d chosen the shined slice of geode for its simplicity. Y/N didn’t seem the type to be impressed by diamonds, gold, and what use did she have for vibranium? This piece, that he hoped she’d wear close to her heart, reminded him of hot springs and snow and fireside lovemaking and a spark he’d felt with no one else.

 

The fact that the necklace had not made the return trip back to Wakanda ignited a small well of hope inside him. He’d certainly not get ahead of himself and assume that meant she now thought of him favorably, but unlike at the lake she hadn’t thrown all he’d offered back into his face. That was a start and all it took was a crack to open up a canyon.


	2. Chapter 2

Coming down the mountain for council meetings was something M’Baku had once dreaded. Now, in the last three months, he’d been the first in the throne room, impatiently waiting for the others to arrive. He’d been hoping that one of those meetings would bring news of Y/N and her completed project. As far removed as it was, the knowledge that she was still thriving made him happy. Unfortunately, each meeting had been chockful of nothing but standard business and boring small talk that made his normal humor turn dark. At the close of each gathering, he’d trudged back to his home, certain that it would be a lifetime before he saw her again.

 

This day, as he secured his cloaks around his shoulders, a voice called out to him. It was Shuri. T’Challa’s younger sister in some ways reminded him of Y/N. She was fiercely intelligent, stubborn as all outdoors, but she was kind-hearted and warm. Some of his annoyance seeped from his body. It was hard to be angry watching her look like a cat who’d eaten a canary.

 

“I think you’d like to be privy to a bit of information I may have,” she nearly sang as the end of her words curled up into a smile.

 

He gave her a quick grunt and tilted his head. His patience with games was at an all-time low. “And what would that be?” He snapped the final portion of his travel gear onto his body and raised an eyebrow at her.

 

“She’s coming back,” she beamed as she waited for the praise and thanks she expected him to show.

 

“Who?” he asked, knowing damn well of whom she spoke.

 

Shuri’s face twisted and she sucked her teeth. “Really? Like you’re able to hide why you’ve been flying down here for the meetings. Stop being an ass.”

 

Had she not been a member of the royal family and decorum and protocol didn’t exist, he would have used his bulk to intimidate her into being quiet. Still, he wanted her to carry on.

 

“Anyway, she’ll be here at the end of next week. Maybe you can you get your attitude in check by then. And if you’re nice, I might just help you see her.” With a roll of her eyes, she turned on her heels, leaving him staring after her with the world swirling through his mind.

 

***

 

“Books and computers aren't a substitute for real people, Y/N.” The softly spoken words of your best friend barely registered in your brain, but your heart kicked. “How is it that it's Friday night in a major American city and you’re sitting with a pile of dusty books?”

 

“Amara, if I want to stay in and work on a Friday night I can.” Let your parents and your friends tell it, you were some sort of hermit.

 

“I understand that but isolating yourself helping anything.”

 

You’d given her the briefest recap of your trip to Wakanda, spending more time on your tribal interviews and all you’d seen than your mountain adventures. You did not include why you now had a crescent moon scar marring your skin or how you’d come out of your body and slain a warrior. She knew that you’d met someone who piqued your interest, but how your heart still yearned for him was something you weren’t willing to share. Those thoughts were for you only.

 

But you knew Amara had a point. You'd spent the better part of your adult life building a career and trying to make your way from the college classroom to a full-time living as a writer. You hadn't allowed yourself a break, let alone any real companionship. Whatever you felt about your cloistered existence didn't matter at the moment. You were quickly closing in on the completion of your Wakandan book assignment. You may have been sidetracked by a regal giant while across the world, but here at home you had no excuse.

 

“I get it. I promise once this book business is done I'll go wild.” A peal of laughter followed your vow.

 

Amara’s noncommittal grunt irked you. “You don't believe me?”

 

“Y/N, you have a singular focus like I’ve never seen and I worry for you. You can come off as unforgiving. I don't want you to look up years from now regretting you let all this time slip away.”

 

You knew she was right. With each tick of the clock you felt your chance at a real life slip away. What did you have to show for all of your ambition? No man, no babies. All you had was a fledgling career that as satisfying as it was still was no comparison to an actual person.

 

“Thank you for worrying about me, sweetie. I'll be fine. You believe me, right?” More than anything you wanted Amara to believe you. She was your strongest ally and if she didn't buy it, no one would.

 

“I'll believe it when I see it, Y/N,” Amara replied using your childhood nickname. “Until then I'll be worried about you and I'll be looking out for your well-being.”

 

Better than anyone else in the world, you knew her quiet words were a warning and a promise. She was telling you without raising her voice that she wanted you to do more than research and write. She wanted you to live and above all she wanted you to heal from what your past lovers had done to your heart.

 

“I promise you. After I wrap up the book launch in Wakanda, I’ll treat myself to a vacation. Is that good enough?”

 

Five minutes later, you and Amara said your goodbyes after finalizing plans for her visit to Philadelphia in a few weeks. It had been almost six months since you’d seen her. You were starving for your tribe. You had a lot of catching up to do.

 

With your laptop powered down and your cache of gadgets charging, you curled yourself on one of the window seats that ran the length of the far wall of your loft. Your home was your haven, but staring out onto the cityscape, you let out a heavy sigh. What you wouldn’t give to have an arm curled around you at that moment. Amara’s warnings had stirred something in your chest and now you were afraid you’d have a hell of a time putting it back to bed.

 

Despite Amara’s grimness, you were all at once ecstatic and terrified. After months of e-mails, phone calls, and scheduling conflicts you’d finally set a date for your return to Wakanda. Next week, you’d once again leave the bustle of Philadelphia and wake up among a nation of beauty and the culture.

 

With this final piece of your assignment coming to fruition, you were confident the world would open up in ways that would change your life forever. You’d hoped T’Challa and the rest of the royal family would be accepting and supportive of the collection you’d crafted. You’d give anything to continue your research of the rituals and folklore that abounded in their tribes. If you were lucky, you’d be given access to the amazing collection of early storybooks, transcriptions, and texts you’d love to spend a few years swooning over.

 

After the launch, you planned to spend a few days once again wandering the city center, stockpiling memories, sights, and sounds in case it was your last glimpse of that shore. The weather in Philadelphia was just beginning to turn so the warmer weather would be a welcome change. A week of good food, history, and relaxation should be more than enough to get Amara off her back.

 

Overjoyed about your plans, you floated about the loft pulling luggage and travel items from their respective places. You tossed a handful of socks onto your wrought iron framed bed and started matching them. You’d already packed and unpacked several pairs of lacy underwear with matching bras. They were currently sitting on the tufted bench at the foot of the queen-sized bed. What in the world were you taking them for? Who would see them? Certainly not M’Baku. Staying away from him was the best course of action, but somewhere in your chest you knew it would be like moth to flame.

 

While you were all for treating yourself, sometimes the small reminders of your single life grated on you. Something as small as having a significant other to appreciate the sight of the delicate lace on your flesh was a sore point. After the breakup with your most recent beau, you were a staunch believer in dating yourself. You’d done everything from traveling to wearing red lipstick. In the end, you’d learned who you were down to your very core, but the end also brought a loneliness you were still unsure how to resolve.

 

If you were honest with yourself, at times you used your work as a shield. It kept people at bay. Amara was right. Books were not a substitute for people, but books didn't break your heart. Your writing and teaching, as exciting as they may be, were consistent. You knew when the academic year started and ended. You had a syllabus to remind you of deadlines and you knew how to organize your thoughts into a concise and well-documented final product. What you didn't know was how to get a man to accept you fully. Gathering the small scraps of fabric in your hands, you mulled a second more and tucked them into the suitcase.


	3. Chapter 3

“You are still as breathtaking as all of my kingdom.”

 

The voice behind you was unmistakable. M’Baku. How had he known you were returning and exactly when you’d land? A sweeping glance across the tarmac settled on a giggling Shuri and her brother, who looked oddly pleased with himself. Thank god there had been the forethought to ensure only the bare minimum personnel were on hand. At least your embarrassment wasn’t met with a full welcoming committee.

 

You were convinced your knees buckled as he relieved you of the carryon bag in your hands and ran a quick touch from your cheek to your collarbone. You felt delicate and treasured all in the span of a few heartbeats. You stammered a thank you to him and allowed yourself to be led away from the low frequency hum of the ship.

 

“Welcome back!” Shuri threw her arms around you. It was off-putting. Sure, the Panther clan had been more than welcoming to you, but you still found their focused attention odd. Perhaps you’d be able to inquire about it later, but for now you were content on making your way to the same quarters you’d occupied before. This time, you hoped sleep would find you swiftly. Jet lag had settled squarely on your shoulders.

Bringing yourself back to the moment, you caught the tail end of T’Challa’s statement. “…he’ll make sure you get settled in your quarters. We’ll see you a bit later for dinner. “

 

Before you could ask who he was referring to, M’Baku took your hand again and pulled you gently towards the door. He opened it and allowed you to enter before filling the space behind you with his muscled bulk. Taking a chance to gather yourself while he placed your luggage across the room, you ran damp hands across your thighs peeking out from a mudcloth print pencil skirt. The white linen tank tucked neatly into the waist band seemed to cling to your skin.

 

I’m just getting used to the heat here, you tried to convince yourself.

 

“I am glad you have returned. I’ve missed you.” You turned at the sound of his voice.

 

“Don’t. Please.” You raised a palm in his direction. He looked unimpressed.

 

“Oh, but I will. Left to your own stubbornness you would pretend I don’t exist.”

 

He took a step towards you. “But from the looks of it, you haven’t been doing a good job,” he quipped as his fingers found the geode around your neck. He eyed it curiously and made a lazy circle with one thick digit around his gift and the soft swell of your breasts. “It looks beautiful on you.”

 

How massively stupid were you? Why hadn’t you left it at home? Because you hadn’t taken it off since the first time you’d laid eyes on it.

 

“It’s a lovely piece,” you choked out, your throat suddenly drier than the Mohave. “It was very thoughtful of you. I wasn’t able to thank you for making sure all of my research made it home with me.”

 

He grunted and raised his eyebrow. “You have multiple ways of reaching me. You chose not to.” It was a matter of fact statement that made you feel selfish and childish. He was right. You were certain any of the docents you’d dealt with, or even T’Challa himself, could have delivered a message. They’d certainly made sure he’d gotten your goodbye.

 

As seemed to be the case lately, you wanted to cry and turned from his concerned stare.

 

“Little one? What is it?”

 

You ran a quick hand over your face and sniffled briefly “Allergies. I’ll be okay.” The lie came out easily.

 

“I see. Go freshen up. I’ll be here,” he said as he plopped his mass onto the edge of the bed. You understood his clear sign. He wasn’t going anywhere. Gathering a few things from your carryon, you padded to the bathroom.

 

***

 

Watching the sway of her backside headed towards the opposite side of the spacious room was hell. All M’Baku wanted to do was sling her over his shoulder, toss her on the bed, and spend the next few hours pulling screams from her body. A few seconds later, he heard the kick and spray of the shower coming to life.

There was no way he could sit idle while Y/N’s body glistened under the spray, so M’Baku mimicked her motions and took up position on the balcony. He was more than certain there would be plenty of time to observe her before her time in Wakanda was over.

 

Before he knew it, the bathroom door swung open. A small burst of warmed air exited followed by the woman M’Baku found irresistible. Wrapped in a robe, she looked utterly relaxed for the first time since he’d met her. He couldn’t help but to smile.

 

“You look…amazing. I mean you…” he stammered. Thankfully, her bashful laughter filled the space his words should have.

 

“That shower is what’s amazing. I needed that. It’s been a day,” she muttered as she moved towards her suitcase. “Give me a few more moments and I’ll see you out.”

 

He simply nodded as she retreated into bathroom with an armful of pajamas. Wiping one large hand across his face, he berated himself. When was the last time a woman had left him speechless? Let alone a woman doing something as simple as washing off the stress of the day?

 

Who was he fooling? Stalking across the room, he opened the door to find her naked back and curvaceous behind in full view. She glanced over her shoulder, eyes widening.

 

“What are you doing in here?!”

 

“What I should have the minute the door closed.” He crossed the room in two short strides and hoisted her body onto the countertop, spreading her legs with his body. She looked both small in the shadow of his size and drugged. Both of their gazes lingered on the other’s lips, skin, eyes.

 

M’Baku took no time pulling the heavy wooden armor from his frame and dropping everything to the floor. He’d longed for her skin against his for the months she’d been gone and a second more was an eternity to wait.

 

He wanted Y/N with a passion he'd found few parallels to in his years on Earth.

 

Culling her into his banded arms before she could protest, M’Baku captured her lips gently, coaxing her warm breath to float from between them. He licked, suckled, feasted on her mouth before deepening the kiss. He wanted to know how it felt to breathe in sync with her. He felt the start of her resistance and tensed for a moment, terrified that she'd leave him bereft. There was no word to describe how his heart leapt when the moment passed and she joined in.

 

Not giving her time to react, he stepped closer to the countertop, pulling her as close as possible. Nipping the column of her fragrant neck with his teeth, he startled her, bringing a smoky gasp from her throat. He used his soft lips to ease the small hurt he'd inflicted and went in for another. Tasting her pulse as if it contained everything he’d ever wanted, M’Baku trailed kisses across her jaw, savoring the smooth skin that smelled of citrus.

 

“You smell delicious,” he growled in her ear, causing her to shiver and burrow deeper into his arms. The feel of her pressed against his body was enough to drive him crazy, but he held his ground. He wanted this moment to last forever, to be able to cherish every movement of their bodies and to stoke the flames crackling between them.

 

Leaving the skin along her neck and jaw line set aflame, he diverted his attention to her lips, already slightly parted to draw shallow breaths. Sucking her bottom lip into his mouth, M’Baku started with slow suction, increasing the pressure as he felt her responding. Her gentle kisses remained the same. She kissed him softly, but passionately enough to keep him coming back for more. Giving her no chance to pull away, he switched to her top lip, giving it the same attention as the bottom, before parting her lips completely and letting himself taste that sweetness that lay inside her. He invited Y/N’s tongue to dance with his time and time again. She responded with a blazing mouth and inviting moans.

 

M'Baku slung her across his shoulder, eliciting a startled yelp that made him chuckle. She clearly wasn’t used to a man who could move her body with and against her will. The need to get inside her was driving him insane. He’d waited too long to claim her again and he wanted no distractions when he did so. Ensuring the door was securely locked, he tossed her to the bed, a wicked growl rumbling in his throat.

 

“Any objections to what we’re about to do?” he whispered to her, barely holding his emotions in check. The need to crush her body to his and feel the silkiness of her was overwhelming. Before he pushed himself to the hilt, he needed to know that he would not be denied.

 

A simple shake of Y/N’s dark head was enough for him. M’Baku’s fingers stroked across the delicate curve of her lower back, sending tiny tremors through her body as an appetizer to what was to come. He knew their coupling would be explosive. Pressing his hands against her burning flesh and running a large palm up and down her spine, M’Baku elicited purrs from Y/N. 

 

“You have no idea how I've wanted you again sweetheart,” he confessed, kissing her palms and closed eyelids alternatively.

 

Whatever she planned to say in response was lost when she opened her eyes and gazed at him in the dimming light of evening. She took endless moments to admire his silhouette before her. The passion mixed with uncertainty in her eyes drew him closer to her.

 

“Is everything alright?” he ventured.

 

“Yes. I’ve just been dreaming of this since I left,” she stated simply, burying herself against his bare chest. Placing her ear to his solidness, she listened to his heart beat to calm herself. 

 

Using a steady finger to tilt her chin upward, M’Baku dipped his head to sample her lips. Keeping her mouth occupied with mind blowing kisses, he palmed her breasts. Seemingly emboldened by his actions, Y/N kissed him back with force and pressed her nude body closer to his. The feel of her bare breasts against his skin shutdown the rest of M’Baku’s brain. There was no going back now. She was his and he was hers. He was certain there was no one else in either of their lives that could compare to what they could be together.

 

The glow of her skin shone brightly against the white bed linens. He spent long moments gazing at her frame, images and plans of what he would do to her dancing before his eyes. Beginning at the top of her head, his hands feathered across her skin, across her lips, anywhere his hands could reach without moving his body from directly above hers.

“Are you sure? You won’t regret this in the morning?” he asked, concerned that she would realize she made a mistake when the sun rose and run from him once again.

 

“I’m sure. Now stop talking,” was all she said before silencing him with a wandering his hand below his belly button. Giving her one of his trademark lopsided grins and a mischievous wink, M’Baku dove in.

 

Receiving a sufficient answer to his question was enough to quell any doubt that lingered in his mind and he focused his complete attention on the gorgeous woman opening herself to him. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine they would have reached this point. He would have waited her out, but thankfully he didn’t have to.

 

***

 

You couldn’t care less that M’Baku had burst into the bathroom and had hauled your naked body to the bed to have his way with you. What mattered was that you were laying underneath him feeling breathless. What you did know was that at that moment, your lips were being devoured by the single sexist man you’d ever known. He was kissing you with such gentle passion that you felt the bottom of your stomach drop out every time his lips feathered across yours and pulled your breath into his body.

 

He hovered above you, gifting kisses down the column of your neck, across your responsive breasts, rising and falling with each shallow breath and down the trail of your stomach to your belly button. The moist heat of his lips and tongue along the line where the waistband of your underwear should have been sent you squirming beneath him. The firm grip of his hands on your hips held you firm to the bed and you had no choice but to give yourself over to him. One peek at his eyes studying you from behind lush black lashes calmed you and you let herself melt into a pool.

 

Planting your feet firmly on the bed, opening herself to M’Baku, you felt brazen and womanly. There was no shame in you offering of yourself to him. You wanted him with no regrets. You wanted there to be no secrets kept from each other, no desire the two of you could not express. Clutching the sheets next to your hips with one hand and placing a palm on the top of M’Baku’s head, you arched your back and closed your eyes. You let your body move to the rhythms it wanted to. Fire shot through you and you pushed away from it. The strong grip on your hips pulled you back into place before you felt your body draw into itself. 

 

“Stay. Where. You. Are.” M’Baku grunted at you, moving his mouth only momentarily. He jerked you back to where he wanted you, strong fingers digging into your thighs. “Understand?”

 

When you whimpered, he flicked his tongue. “I said do you understand?”

 

“Yes!”

 

“Yes what?” That damn tongue again.

 

“Sir! I understand, sir!”

 

You felt perspiration beading your brow and pleasure spiking from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. You felt electric and wanted to ride that feeling into forever.

 

“M’Baku! You have to stop,” you told him in a completely unconvincing passion choked whisper. You pressed your hand lightly against his head to emphasize the words.

 

There was no reply from him, just the endless pleasure of his mouth and tongue worshiping you. He spoke no words, yet his actions spoke more promises than you could keep track of. After pulling you over the edge of ecstasy, M’Baku covered your body with his and joined you as one. He boldly stared into your eyes, pushing and pulling your pliant frame to pleasure you both. You felt yourself fluttering close to the edge once again and closed your eyes against the red explosions tracing the edges of your vision. You were snatched back suddenly when M’Baku paused all motion. You pushed heavy lids open to look into his eyes.

 

“I want you with me every step of the way. I want to see your eyes, Y/N. Keep them open,” he demanded in voice that shook you.

 

Not needing to speak, you locked her eyes with his. You drank in the full lips that could pleasure you beyond reason and noted the adoration that was growing by leaps and bounds emitting from him. You wrapped your long legs around his muscular back and began a push and pull of your own, meeting him at the peak of climax before tumbling back to Earth together.

 

Long after last night became the next morning, the two of you had taken each other again. In the purple haze of the early morning, you lay tangled in each other’s arms, making no moves to disengage your limbs. M’Baku’s hand rested against your curls, stroking the tightly coiled tendrils, occasionally kissing the top of the springy strands. Absently mindedly rubbing your palm across his solid chest, you shifted your body on top of him and fell into the sated sleep of a woman well satisfied.


	4. Chapter 4

M’Baku awoke several hours later tangled in the sheets. He languidly stretched his limbs across the king-sized mattress hoping one of his hands would skim across her silken skin. He had no such luck. His body hardened thinking of being inside her again. M’Baku had finally found the fire he'd been denied. The two of them had shared each other's bodies several more times before the sun rose and he'd awaken thinking he would get more of the same. Not caring about his lack of clothing, M’Baku set out in search of his woman.

 

He found her sitting in an overstuffed chair near the windows. A laptop was balanced on her bare knees. Clearly, whatever she was working on had taken precedence over getting fully dressed. Clad only in his tunic, hair tousled, she looked perfect.

 

“Good morning, little one,” he called out to her softly as not to startle her. “I missed waking up with you.”

 

A slim finger told him to hold on while she finished typing with one hand. M’Baku checked a bit of annoyance. He understood that her work was just as important to her as any of his duties as tribal leader. A final click sounded as Y/N’s finger retreated. She shifted a pair of tired eyes towards him. He understood how she felt. Neither of them had gotten much sleep. Frankly, he hadn't wanted to. Regardless of her lack of rest, she was simply gorgeous. Those eyes touched him each time he looked at them. And those lips! M’Baku noted her mouth was still thoroughly swollen from his kisses. An unexpected sense of pride snuck up on him. This was his woman. Last night had branded them both. 

 

“Good morning. I had some work to do. I needed to be up hours ago.”

 

“What time is it?”

 

“After ten. I have an appointment at the archives today at one. I really need to get my things in order before I head out.”

 

This time M’Baku couldn't check his anger. Or his disappointment. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

With purposeful strides, he crossed the room. Closing the laptop carefully, he placed it on the side table as he took a seat on the coffee table directly in front of her. He noted her lingering gaze at his chest and arms and below. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. She was just fighting it a hell of a lot harder than he was.

 

“I asked if you were trying to get rid of me, love.”

 

“I have things to do. The launch isn't too far away. I've worked too hard to get off track now.”

 

“So, my being here is throwing you off track, is it?” he leaned forward and trailed a finger across Y/N’s knee while a thumb skimmed across her lips.

He grinned at her breath catching and her eyes fluttering closed. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips.

 

“Yes, you are getting me off track.” Her voice was unsteady.

 

“Good, because Y/N L/N I don't think you've allowed yourself time to do anything besides work for the last few years. Maybe it's time you had a distraction.”

 

M’Baku pulled her to her feet as he rose and molded their bodies together.

 

“If you're really trying to get rid of me, I'm going to need my shirt,” he whispered seconds before his hands reached for the hem and started to raise it. “Now, unless you offer me a compromise, I'm going to have to take it back.”

 

What compromise could there be with his hands caressing her thighs gently, making slow paths up and down her warmed skin? He felt her shiver.

 

“I'm waiting for my answer, sweetheart.” The hem lifted to her waist, but she offered no resistance. “I guess I have my answer,” M’Baku mused before he dipped his head towards her parted lips and dove into the sweetness within them. Dropping the hem of the t-shirt, he palmed her face in one hand to kiss her more deeply and used his free arm to anchor her to his body, lifting her from her feet. She felt delicate in his arms. He could easily lift her with minimal effort.

The distance between the chair and the bed was covered in a few quick steps. He brought her body down to straddle his, positioning their bodies comfortably among the pillows. His kisses shifted, became more blatantly erotic. Their tongues dueled and his held her fast against his growing erection. Y/N mewed in his arms and pulled away from his kiss. She was breathless.

 

“M’Baku, we can't. I need to get going.” 

“You can do anything you want, little one. And I can tell from how you're grinding in my lap the archives are the last place you want to be.” He palmed her sensitive breasts, flicking a thumb over each distended nipple. “Wouldn't it be so much more fun to stay in with me today?” 

 

Her hesitation told him everything he needed to know and he dove back in for another sampling of her mouth. This time her arms encircled his neck and she angled her head to allow him greater entry. Large hands grasped the hem of the shirt again and pulled it deftly over her head. His earlier assessment has been correct. She wasn't wearing anything beneath his oversized garment.

 

M'Baku drank in her curves in the bright sunlight. His breath caught. She was undeniably beautiful, with curves that marked her as all woman. His hands instantly sought her exposed flesh, molding her breasts in his large hands; he drew moist lines across the hills of her cleavage with his tongue. He heard her gasp and brought his eyes back to hers.

 

Crushing her body to his, M’Baku dipped his head to capture a budding nipple in his mouth. He listened to her mew in delight and in response he felt his body harden even more, preparing itself to enter her and make them both scream out in pleasure. M’Baku pulled the surface of his tongue across the dark berry and reveled in Y/N’s low moans. He used his free hand to roll the other rigid point in between his fingers, causing her to arch her other breast deeper still into his mouth. He was so caught in his own rapture that he barely heard her speaking.

 

“What about my appointment?” she whispered, drawing breath in short spurts and pulling his face to hers.

 

“Damn your appointment,” he growled with her still clinging to him. “It can be rescheduled! This is much more important.”

 

Y/N raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at the sight of his turgid manhood springing forward. He spied her biting her bottom lip at the sight of him. He could only imagine what wicked things she was thinking. He knew his only thought was getting inside her as soon as possible. Having properly distracted her, M’Baku settled Y/N’s lovely body on top of his.

 

***

By the time you extricated herself from M’Baku and shuttled him out of your line of sight, you were over three hours late for your archive visit. Even after rescheduling, he had managed to distract you again and before you knew it, the morning and afternoon were gone. You were furious. Your appointment at the archives at been planned since prior to your arrival and now you’d have to wait until the next morning to quench your curiosity.

However, you couldn’t deny the time in and out of the bed had been well worth it. You had felt a freedom with M’Baku that was without parallel anywhere else in your life. He’d made you feel unchained. Utter freedom was not something to which you were accustomed. You had always been self-contained, reserved, and if you asked the right person, downright elusive. M’Baku, with his very presence, made you forget the walls you’d built.

 

Whatever freedom he allowed you would be a moot point if you continued to shirk your responsibilities to be with him. Pushing your body towards the bathroom, you resolved yourself to spending the remainder of the evening at least organizing your notes for the presentation you’d give at the end of the week.

 

Midnight had reared its head by the time you finally copied, pasted, and formatted your thoughts into what you decided would be its final form. You were pleased. Pleased, but empty. Lonely was a better word you mused. You were lonely because you missed M’Baku. The day with him had been both a jolt and a warning. You could only hope you could appreciate him for the time you were there and be able to let him go again once it was all said and done.

 

Somehow you would have to forget the feel of his heart beating wildly against your chest as he held you flush against his body. The nights you’d made love were never far from your thoughts, but that was all there was. Just sex. You understood there could never be anything between you and M’Baku other than a few rounds in bed. Your worlds, your personalities, were complete opposites. You had already given him your body and now you knew your heart. The only thing you had left was your mind and that was more important than anything. M’Baku left you restless, unsure of yourself. You’d never been that way before.

 

Feeling a rumble in your stomach, you crept out of your room hoping to find something quick to eat without disturbing anyone. Spying a bowl of fruit on a hallway table not too far away, you palmed pear and a few grapes.

 

“We’d begun to worry you’d died of starvation.” At the sound of the voice you dropped the fruit to the floor. When you rose from scooping up your mess, you met the amused face of T’Challa.

 

“Your highness.” You gave a quick bow. Heat rose in your cheeks. He had a point. For the better part of two days, you’d been in some state of nakedness with a very large distraction driving you a whole lot of crazy. “I apologize, I’ve been very focused on tomorrow night’s event.”

 

He chuckled. “I’m sure you have been. However, I’m sure M’Baku has kept you a bit busy as well. It’s a rare occasion he leaves his mountain for any real length of time. No need to be embarrassed.”

 

You dropped your eyes. How must this look?

 

“He loves you. I know this for sure.”

 

“I don’t know why he does. He shouldn’t.”

 

“People have a way of knowing things, especially where the heart is concerned. We’ve only just begun to forge a friendship, but I can tell you I ‘d never seen his face light up as it did when Shuri told him of your return.”

 

That set free a bevy of butterflies in your stomach and threw up a stop sign in your mind. Too deep. Too fast you chastised yourself.

 

“I see. M’Baku is an amazing man and I’ve been honored to get to know him over the course of my visits.” You tried to slip into your cultivated professional voice, but you knew it was tinged with a bit of sadness.

 

The king graced you with a simple hmph. “Nice necklace. I thought he’d go with the green, but it’s lovely just the same.” With a wink and a bidding of goodnight, he made his way deeper into the royal family’s personal wing. The Dora Milajae were tight on his heels. You couldn’t be quite sure, but you thought you heard him chuckle. Unable to figure a course of action based on T’Challa’s statements, you fingered the geode around your neck mulling over how to break the heart of a giant.


	5. Chapter 5

When M’Baku entered the room, you felt your heart still. There was no denying the man was beautiful. You’d seen him in two states: naked or in full armor. Tonight, he was clad in black, still traditional but now cloaked in a finely woven formal tunic and matching pants. His long feet were encased in supple black loafers, a jeweled Jabari crest hung from a vibranium chain slightly thicker than the one encircling your neck.

 

“I take it you approve?” he inquired while sticking a finger between his neck and the tunic’s collar. Seeing your regal giant squirm like a schoolboy tickled you.

 

“Yes, my king.” You rose to your full height and then further on your toes to kiss him. You were still too short. In a swift moment, you found yourself hoisted face to face with him, the full skirts of your indigo, raw silk ballgown rustling. M’Baku’s eyes had illuminated when you’d stepped shyly from the dressing room. The dress, the same hue as his gift to you, sashed one shoulder, cinched your waist, and blossomed out.

 

“I am proud of you, little one. You have continued to amaze me with everything you do.”

 

You blushed as he placed you on your feet and pushed a curl behind your ear. In that moment, you were eternally grateful for Amara. She’d talked you down from running earlier, asking you hard questions about what you were afraid of, why you continued to deny yourself and M’Baku the honor of loving one another, and where else you expected to find a massive king willing to give you the world if you asked for it. You were afraid, but you were not stupid.

 

After a short walk through the gardens, the two of you entered a ballroom swirling with activity. In your direct line of sight was the brightly patterned cover of a book. Your book. You could barely contain your smile and you heard M’Baku chuckle. He found your nerves amusing, but still squeezed your hand in reassurance.

 

How you made it through your brief talk about the origins of, and the process behind, the collection you would never know. For however nervous you felt, when your last word hit the air the room erupted in applause. When you’d returned to the table, M’Baku had leaned to you and kissed you in full view of everyone. Finally at ease, you smiled against his mouth as the first course of dinner arrived.

***

“He loves you. I’m certain of that, but you do not belong here,” the woman in front of you snarled. “You stink of the outside world.”

 

When she had approached the table and greeted M’Baku as king, you’d smiled when he introduced you. Shortly after her arrival, he’d excused himself to speak with the council and she’d expressed interest in your book. You’d had no problems making small talk and answering questions about your research process. But when she’d remarked she knew who you were, the woman who’d killed A’Dyo, you wished the conversation over as quickly as possible.

 

“I’m surprised. I thought you’d be more intimidating.” She sized you up and raised an eyebrow.

 

“Well, I’m certainly not a Jabari warrior, but that survival instinct is a bitch.”

 

“Hmph. A’Dyo was a great warrior.”

 

“At one time I suppose he was. However, the man I killed was out of his mind. Forget that he tried to kill me, he tried to murder M’Baku.” Your eyes went hard thinking of how he’d fallen at your feet. “A’Dyo gave up his greatness the moment he thought of betraying the kingdom.”

 

“The kingdom? You speak as if you are a part of it,” she pushed out a sarcastic laugh.

 

It took every fiber of your being to remain calmly seated at the table. Between A’Dyo’s insult about being a common American and now this, you were done defending who you were and where you came from. You placed your fork to the side of the dessert plate and returned her glare. Your smile was saccharine sweet. Power is taken, not given and you were not giving her an inch. “I’m quite sure I’ll take some getting used to but understand very clearly that you and no one else is getting rid of me anytime soon.”

 

You leaned into the table, crossing your arms in front of you. “Is it that you’re jealous? That a stinking outsider captured the best the Jabari has to offer?”

 

You saw her recoil and you felt a sense of both accomplishment and shame. You’d never been one to be catty, but you also would never let anyone blatantly disrespect you. You threw a smile at M’Baku, who was eying the two of you from across the room. The fact he remained among the other council members and had not stalked over to the table was a good sign.

 

She laughed, throwing ropes of dark hair over her shoulder as she did. When her gaze returned to you, her eyes sparked with something that seemed dangerous. It was her turn to lean into the table, bringing her well-defined shoulders closer to you.

 

“Captured? I imagine he hasn’t yet told you of his impending marriage. Am I correct?”

 

It was at that moment you knew what people meant when they said all of the air had rushed out of their bodies. Your lungs felt like a vacuum and you siphoned a small gulp of air, careful to avoid cracking your façade. If M’Baku had taught you anything, you knew your face was the first weapon you had. Once that was compromised, you might as well surrender.

 

“You didn’t know! Well, I’m quite sure in your research you’ve come across the expectations for the leaders of each tribe. And as it has been for a long as we’ve ruled the mountain, a Jabari king must marry by the end of his fifth year as ruler. It would seem M’Baku is rapidly approaching that. About another six months if I am correct. “

 

She gave you a triumphant smirk and watched you rise from the table. Gathering the dark skirts cascading from your waist to avoid tripping on them, you made a hasty retreat to the closest balcony. You braced your hands against the cool marble bannister and gulped in lungs full of air. You felt your hands tremble. So stupid! So very stupid!

 

You’d always been one to follow your first mind and the one time you refused to do so, this is what happened. Married? Each time he’d shown you any affection or plunged in and out of your body you’d been falling in love and in lust with some other woman’s husband. You closed your eyes and tried to steady yourself.

 

“What did she say to you?” Uncertainty, and what you assumed was fear, was woven through his words.

 

“It’s not really important, you know?” You refused to turn to look at him. You couldn’t. You felt the bulk of his body move next to you, his hand pressed against yours.

 

“It is important. You won’t even look at me.”

 

It would have been easy to tell a lie about the view or the beauty of the Wakandan sky, but there really wasn’t too much more damage to be done.

 

“Congratulations on your forthcoming wedding.” The defeat in your voice was thick. “I’m sure it will be a beautiful ceremony.”

 

You felt a sigh shudder out of his body. “Yes, marriage is a possibility.”

 

“And you felt no need to inform me?”

 

“It hadn’t crossed my mind because I wasn’t concerned with anyone other than the woman standing beside me. The rule exists, yes. Does that mean I have no say in who I choose? It does not. Six months can be an eternity. Many things can change.” The end of his sentence was laced with promise.

 

“Quite frankly, what happens in the next six months is up to you, love.” His pinky shifted to intertwine with yours. “I think I’ve made myself abundantly clear. I am in love with you. I want you here. I cannot say it in any simpler terms.”

 

His fingers moved from yours and he drew you into his arms, tucking your head beneath his chin. Your arms buffered between his chest and yours, you felt warm. His voice vibrated through your body.

 

“What are we going to do, mmm?”

 

Months ago, when you’d walked out into the heat of the Golden City, you were a different person. Guarded in ways that life had required of you. Wakanda had taught you the depths of your strength, how much you could accomplish when both terrified and empowered. It had also softened you, allowed you to accept love as it was offered. After the thicket, after A’Dyo, and after all that had conspired to destroy you both, there you were still tucked into the safety of his arms.

 

“We are going to figure out how this very modern woman fits into your world.” You could feel him smiling.

 

“And after we complete such a simple task?”

 

“Then we discuss how to allow her to still have a career while making you as happy as she possibly can.”

 

He chuckled and you smiled at the richness of it coursing through your body.

 

“That we can do. Come.” He stepped back and held out a hand that quickly engulfed yours. The look he gave you was all at the same time indulgent and wicked. With a quick press of his lips to your forehead, you re-entered the party hand in hand.

 

You were quite aware of the eyes that followed you from the balcony doors back to the small group of council members to whom he’d been speaking. He rejoined the conversation as if he’d never left, his thumb stroking the inside of your wrist. You returned his affection by wrapping your slender fingers around his wrist and glancing up at him.

 

When the evening finally wound down, you’d watched him pull a beautifully carved Jabari wood box from his pocket. Your breath caught and your eyes swung up at him. “M’Baku?”

 

“Don’t be afraid, little one. This is a foundation. When you are ready, and only then, I will fill this box with the ring of your desires. Until then, it serves as a reminder that you are what I want. Who I want.”

 

****

Epilogue

 

M’Baku was fairly certain Y/N was unware of what he knew. That he loved her more than his kingdom was vast. Across their now shared chambers, she busied herself unpacking a small box of books and journals. Before her return from her latest trip back to the States, he’d had bookshelves added in both the bedroom and the palace library. She’d warned him there were scores of books to come. She hadn’t lied.

 

Off to her right, the floor to ceiling windows allowed the brightness of the snowy peaks to illuminate the room. Clad in one of his tunics, barefoot, and pre-occupied she was likely the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. She was also very much ripe with his child.

 

Prior to her return to Philadelphia she had been ill enough for him to consider racing her down the mountain for the modern care he’d shunned prior. She’d quashed that idea, informing him that if her life now existed among the snows and mountains and traditions of the Jabari lands then the care his people received was good enough for her. It hadn’t taken long to confirm that growing inside her was the heir to the Jabari throne.

 

Whatever he’d felt for her before exploded and he’d taken such precautions to ensure her comfort and protection that she’d rebelled, refusing to let anyone pack her things and transport them back to Wakanda. He’d then declared he would travel with her to oversee both her care and the move. Again, she refused, citing his aversion to modern Wakandan life which she considered much more civilized than her hometown. She’d only relented by allowing a duo of Dora, a kindness of T’Challa, to accompany her.

 

“Little one, you must rest,” he intoned while trying to remove the books from her hands. She bristled and held firm.

 

“I’m not an invalid, M’Baku. I’m pregnant.”

 

“I know, dear. I’m asking you to humor me. It took me all of this time to find you and I want you and our child to be well cared for.” He gave her the saddest eyes he could. She usually fell for it, so it was worth a try. Her sigh let him know he’d won.

 

“Fine,” she sulked before he placed the books on the shelf and gathered her into his arms.

 

Bringing them down onto an overstuffed settee facing the windows, he palmed her belly and graced it with a kiss. “If Hanuman allows me to live a thousand lifetimes I will never cease to be amazed at you and the gift you are giving me.”

 

Moving his kisses from her belly to her cheeks and then her lips, he moved the carved box in front of her eyes for a second time. This time, he flipped it open, the fiery opal flanked in sapphires inside caught the light.

 

“Now that you carry my child, I wish for you to carry my name, to help me carry the mantle of my people, to carry the title you have always deserved.” For as great of a warrior as he was, M’Baku felt his heart beating out of his chest.

 

“Ewe, kumkani wam. Uyintliziyo yam. ilizwe lam. isizwe sam.”

 

(Yes, my king. You are my heart. My world. My tribe.)


End file.
